


Sext

by Hoodoo



Category: Rick and Morty
Genre: Cock Piercing, M/M, Masturbation, Sexting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-07
Updated: 2017-12-07
Packaged: 2019-02-11 17:56:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12940635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hoodoo/pseuds/Hoodoo
Summary: Rick got a piercing. It's wrecked a month's worth of havoc on his sex life, until tonight.





	Sext

**Author's Note:**

  * For [miracide](https://archiveofourown.org/users/miracide/gifts).



> Fic inspired by _immeasurably_ talented miracide's artwork and OC Rick creation. I took the liberty of putting him in a bit of a relationship.

He’d been through dry spells before. 

There were stretches when he’d been too busy getting his bar to actually turn a profit and didn’t have time for anyone. There were times when he’d lock himself away—figuratively, of course, all Ricks got lost inside their heads occasionally—working on new menu items and it never even occurred to him that he hadn’t gotten off in a while.

Which was why, once he was used to semi-regular, scheduled-not-scheduled sex with Rick, when it was suddenly less frequent, he noticed it.

He brought it on himself, of course. He didn’t regret his piercing. Well, he hoped he didn’t regret it. It was still too soon to tell, but with the exception of this month-long required sabbatical, he was pleased so far.

Truthfully, Rick hadn’t been around much lately anyway. These past couple of weeks were busy for him too, and he’d barely stopped by the bar to apologize that he wouldn't be able to stay as promised and giving him a peck on the lips before heading out again.

He asked that he text him after hours.

So here he was, in bed now with the lights out, hoping that Rick hadn’t fallen asleep waiting for him because balancing the fucking books took forever tonight. The screen of his phone was very bright.

_Hey handsome_

He was in luck; Rick responded immediately.

_Hi Punk. It was nice to see you for like 30 secs tonight_

_I barely recognized you it’s been so long_

_Haha. Aren’t you funny. I miss you_

_Miss you too_

Punk paused before hitting ‘send’ and stretched his fingers. For a guy who played bass so long in a band, the small buttons of a phone keypad were killer on left hand. The cursor blinked patiently.

 _Miss you too,_ he had typed, and continued it with, _can’t wait to show you just how much_

Rick’s reply took a second.

_Why *don’t* you show me, Punk?_

It was hard to infer intonation through written words, but Punk imagined a saucy lilt to the unexpected response.

They were four and a half weeks out from his piercing, and he was ready to get back into the swing of things. Then Rick was so busy, and they couldn’t even see each other for any length of time . . . 

He’d had been good. He’d heeded the piercer at the body modification parlor’s advice: no sex of any kind for at least four weeks. Although fascinated with his piercing, he hadn’t done anything deliberate to stimulate himself. In the shower he soaped as usual and paid extra attention to clean his new hardware. It seemed to be healing well and right on schedule. On the mornings that he awoke with an erection, he’d simply ignored it without even a light stroke.

Rick had surprised him with a self-imposed abstinence as well. For all his teasing about his cock not being off limits, when he did try to suggest something for his pleasure he declined, saying that he’d rather wait and not make it one-sided. 

That was exceedingly kind, but frustrating as hell and that was part of the dry spell too. He could have at least lived vicariously through pleasing him. 

So his restriction was lifted and still hadn’t broken this new piercing in? Rick’s little dare could help tide him over.

Punk wasn’t sure if he should turn on the bedside lamp. It might bring Morty to the door; sometimes the kid was too in tune when something unusual happened in the vicinity, and maybe he’d want to know why the light was on again. Eventually he decided his phone’s built-in flash would be enough; maybe it’d add a little raunchy feeling to it?

He kicked his sheet and blanket off his legs. Quickly, before he could think this though rationally, he took a photo of his underwear.

With only a quick glance to make sure the photo was at least marginally lined up, he touched the ‘send’ button again.

_I like it when you wear your black briefs, Punk_

He hadn’t even remembered putting on the black pair this morning.

_Is that all you have to show me?_

Rick’s sarcastic, teasing voice echoed through his head.

Punk passed the phone to his less dominant right hand, and shot another photo with his left hand dipping into the front of his underwear. The angle was slightly skewed, he noted, but this was still easier than typing.

He hit ‘send’ again.

_Go on_

He took a few more quick shots, awkwardly pushing his briefs down with only one hand and documenting the process, until he needed his other hand to remove them from his opposite hip completely. He left them on one ankle, and got a photo of that too. He sent the series to Rick with the ankle photo as the last one.

He was no photographer, but he thought the tease would be appreciated.

_You’re so salacious Punk. Anything more you’re willing to do?_

Once more, he snapped a photo of his groin without pausing to think. He channeled his inner sex-starved teenage self—who was he kidding? He was still sex-starved!—and mentally flipped off the idea of consequences. He argued internally that no one could identify him or blackmail because it was just his cock, and hit the button to reply to him again.

_Are you touching yourself thinking about me?_

Being sex-starved was the reason he was already half-erect. But he couldn’t deny he wanted his hand on himself . . . he also wanted to be with Rick for the first time since he healed, but he was encouraging him. How could he refuse?

Punk took another quick couple of photos. His left hand almost grasping his cock. His fingers encircling his it, then touching the ring, then gently squeezing the head showcase his new hardware. 

He didn’t have to do much for the last one; he was already completely hard. The sensation of his fingers moving over the metal ring settled a heavy feeling of pleasure with a whisper of a sting deep in his gut. He wasn’t going to last long. Maybe doing himself the first time—instead of waiting to be with Rick—was a good idea.

With a trembling hand, Punk sent these photographs.

_It’s so pretty! Does it feel good?_

Punk had never had his cock called “pretty” before, but he did like that it was complimentary. Although all he really wanted to do was stroke himself—that little ache of pleasure-pain was going to be additive, he could tell—typing a reply would give him a chance to calm down again.

_Yes. It feels_

He sought for words to describe it.

_It feels sweet with a twinge of pain and I wish you were here_

_I wish I was there too_

Even without being attended to, the initial pleasure of wrapping his hand around his cock was still singing through his veins. It throbbed, and Punk found himself breathing more quickly.

_Should I continue_

That was a difficult sentence to write.

Rick’s reply was immediate.

_Yes_

His hand automatically grasped himself again, and he took a few more action shots of his hand moving along the shaft. It was tricky to get steady shots; he wanted to stroke himself and explore what new sensations the piercing would provide, but his phone wouldn’t take a sequence of quick photos, and the pause between each of them was distracting, and he didn’t know how many photos he could take anyway—

He could take a video. 

Punk gasped, and it was more from the sudden thought than the pleasure coursing through him.

_Just a moment handsome_

_Are you okay?_

He sent the photos he’d just taken to reassure him, then asked him in a text to be patient.

_The anticipation is killing me_

_Trust me?_

_Of course_

Punk fumbled with the menu of his phone and cued up the video recorder. It had two settings for recording dark environments—one for night vision, and one with a small continual light source, which made him happy once again that he didn’t have to turn on the lamp. It was still going to be a bit awkward taping himself, but he hoped he could concentrate enough to keep the camera steady.

Rick didn’t text anything more, waiting for whatever he was going to do next. 

He took a breath, pushed the ‘record’ button with a swipe of his thumb, and began.

Although he strove to be quiet, small groans escaped his lips as he jerked himself off. That ring was sublime; as his palm glided over it it provided a new friction that made him buck his hips a bit every time it moved up and back with each stroke. 

Experimentally he gave it a very slight tug on it. The resulting pressure in the head of his cock—a firing of each and every nerve ending, it seemed—made him moan. 

He’d meant to make it last as long as possible, but it was too much. His hand moved of its own practiced accord, occasionally bringing his palm up and over the tip, once again lighting up a pleasure he’d never experienced before in his belly. 

At this point he tried very hard to keep the camera pointed in the right direction, but this was an amateur production and he figured Rick would understand. He wasn’t going to last much longer anyway.

It only took a few more strokes before the point of no return snuck up on him. Punk paused for a second, muscles tensing as eminent release built to a crescendo, and then cried out as he came onto his own stomach. 

He was shaking and panting. He gave himself a few moments to catch his breath while the haze cleared. His cock throbbed and leaked the last of his ejaculate. With the light from his mobile, he watched in fascination as the ring moved with each pulsation.

Finally, sticky and sated, he indulgently dragged his fingers through the come on his stomach, leaving trails through the line of hair from his navel to his groin. 

He had to lift the camera so he could see to slide the button to stop the recording, and the light from it was bright enough he knew Rick would be able to see the satisfied smile on his face.

Without giving him any warning of what he was sending, he sent the video.

Rick had texted that the anticipation was killing him. Punk hadn’t appreciated that until he was left waiting for a response. In the minutes while he waited for his reaction, he cleaned himself off with a tissue—wiping residual come from the ring sent minute jolts of pleasure through him again—and readjusted his underwear. 

His phone buzzed while he was wadding up the messy tissue. He tossed it to the table.

With a dry throat, Punk flicked the dark screen.

_(1/3) You‘re *so* dirty, Punk. I love hearing you moan. I love watching you come. That piercing is *hot* and you made me hot watching you. I can’t wait_

_(2/3) to suck you off and get fucked by you and play with that ring. I want to see how loudly I can make you moan and how hard I can make you come. I’m not going to_

_(3/3) touch myself tonight, I’m going to wait until we can have time with each other properly. Can we get together after last call tomorrow night?_

Like he was going to say no. 

_Of course. I can’t wait_

_Wet dreams don’t count towards not touching myself. fyi_

_Of course_

_See you tomorrow_

_Night, handsome_

In the grey tones of his dark bedroom, Punk smiled, and shut down his phone.

_fin._


End file.
